Porcupine Ridge I found myself in the fire burned hills

A sweeping gait carried the tawny male over packed snow toward the top of the ridge, where the ground was most crooked and difficult to navigate. Here the wind was high and cold, but scarcely bothered him. He was well equipped with a thick winter coat capable of keeping out most weather. His paws splayed over the ground as he picked his way higher, only to pause before the base of a high, jutting cliff.

Atop the cliff, he could spot the wooly white coat of one of the horned creatures that called the ridge home. There were two types: the long-haired white ones with their weirdly tiny heads and thin, jagged horns, and the short-haired tan bug-eyed ones with the impressive curled racks. He knew not the name for either species, but as they had hooves, he knew they were prime game. His intent was to watch them for now, and so he began the arduous task of climbing to a higher location via thin towpaths to get a better look.

Selecting a neighbouring cliff to seat himself on, Farstep peered out across the expanse at what appeared to be a herd of the creatures. One of them ascended to a higher ridge with astounding speed and accuracy. His ears flicked with surprise.